


Giant Chiclet Teeth

by unacaritafeliz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Insecurity, Is this platonic or romantic love?, Who knows? Not Ransom or Holster.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unacaritafeliz/pseuds/unacaritafeliz
Summary: The lights are off in there too, but there's a Holster-shaped lump on Ransom's bed, curled up in the smallest ball possible, and completely covered by Ransom's duvet.Ransom's heart breaks as he looks at the lump of his best friend. It's not the first time time he's seen Holster like this, but it's never gotten any easier to handle. It still feels like it did the first time, back when he had to break into Holster's dorm in their freshman year just to make sure he was okay.[Adam Birkholtz is 6 feet, 4 inches and 220 pounds of insecurity. Justin Oluransi is a good best friend.





	Giant Chiclet Teeth

**OG Samwell Squad Group Chat**

**Lardo** : @Bitty - how was the captains meet-up today?  
**Bitty** : Really good!  
**Bitty** : The other captains are so nice and supportive!  
**Bitty** : Even Chad L. from Lacrosse?  
**Shitty** : FUCK THE LAX BROS  
**Ransom** : FUCK THE LAX BROS  
**Holster** : FUCK THE LAX BROS  
**Bitty** : I know, I know. It was weird.  
**Bitty** : Oh and @Holster - someone asked me if "the loud guy with the giant chiclet teeth" graduated yet :')  
**Jack** : Haha.  
**Shitty** : OMG LOL :') :')  
**Lardo** : #famous  
**Johnson** : I bet some reader is going to take that throwaway comment and make whole-ass fic out of it.  
 **Johnson** : I bet it's Rae.  
**Bitty** : ?????  
**Johnson** : Don't worry about it. It's not relevant to the main plot.  
**Bitty** : Somehow I understand even less.

* * *

Ransom gets home later than usual. He'd tried to get home as soon as possible, but the best Jewish restaurant in Boston is on the other side of the city and doesn't deliver, and he'd had decided getting home an hour later with latkes was better than getting home on time without them.

Haus 2.0 is silent when he walks in, the bag of latkes still warm in his hand. All the lights are off, and there's dead silence - no loud feminist lectures, or pop-punk songs, or sitcom laugh-tracks. It's not unexpected - it's Thursday and so Shitty and Lardo are probably out at their weekly Not-A-Date night, and Ransom had known that it'd be a quiet night for Holster - but he still can't help but wish he'd pushed the door open to sounds of 30 Rock, and the smell of Holster heating up a kosher pizza in their kitchen.

Ransom drops the latkes off in the kitchen and heads into his and Holster's room. The lights are off in there too, but there's a Holster-shaped lump on Ransom's bed, curled up in the smallest ball possible, and completely covered by Ransom's duvet.

Ransom's heart breaks as he looks at the lump of his best friend. It's not the first time time he's seen Holster like this, but it's never gotten any easier to handle. It still feels like it did the first time, back when he had to break into Holster's dorm in their freshman year just to make sure he was okay.

"Hey, man," Ransom says, trying to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible. "I bought latkes from that place you like."

The lump doesn't move.

"Holtz?" Ransom asks. "We should eat them while they're hot, bro."

"Not hungry," Holster murmurs, muffled, but still understandable through the layers of blankets he's burritoed in.

Ransom frowns. It must be worse than it usually is, because he's never known Holster's to not be hungry, and he's never seen Holster turn down warm latkes in the 4+ years that they've been best friends.

He walks across the room and sits down on the bed beside Holster. He splays his hand out on the covers, over what he thinks is Holster's back.

"Come on, Holtzy," says Ransom. "You don't even know that they meant it in a bad way."

"You ever heard someone say 'giant chiclet teeth' in a good way?" Holster asks, voice still muffled by the blankets.

Ransom blinks. "Uh, Chyeah," he says.

The lump moves, dislodging Ransom's arm and Holster's head peaks out of it. His blonde hair is a mess, and his eyes are red, like he's been crying. He fixes Ransom with an unimpressed look.

"Who?" Holster asks, skepticism clear in his voice.

"My own internal monologue, pretty much daily," Ransom says. "So unless you're telling me that I'm wrong..."

"I think you're biased, Rans," Holster interrupts. He pushes himself up and turns to sit next to Ransom; resting his back to the headboard and bringing his knees up to his chest and cuddling them in close. It's surprising how small Holster can make himself, when he wants to. He stares down at the bedspreads forlornly.

"It was one thing when I was there," Holster says, staring down at the bedspread forlornly. "But I've graduated now and I'm still known as some big, loud obnoxious loser with bad eyesight and the dumbest fucking teeth in the world. I mean, I know it's true but..."

"Woah, hey, that's my best friend you're talking about," says Ransom. He reaches his right arm around Holster's shoulder and pulls him in. Holster moves easily, tucking his head against Ransom's neck. "And it's not true."

"It's a little true," Holster mumbles. "All I did at Samwell was be loud and annoying and grumpy and ugly."

"Okay, firstly, the entire hockey team was, and is, loud and annoying - and so is, like, every other jock at Samwell," says Ransom. "Secondly, there's nothing wrong with being a grumpy unless you're like perpetually grumpy, which you aren't. And, thirdly, you're not ugly."

Holster snorts. "C'mon, Rans," he says. "Look at me."

"I look at you every day, Adam," Ransom says. "You're not ugly, bro - not by any stretch of the imagination. And I know I'm not the only one who thinks so - I had to listen to Ife gush about how hot you are for like a month after you came home for Christmas, freshman year."

Holster exhales loudly. "Adam J. Birkholtz, attractive exclusively to Oluransis," he says.

"Come on, bro, you're a total catch for anyone," says Ransom. "You're kind, and smart and loyal and you're handsome AF. You're responsible for so many amazing hockey plays, and a lot of kick-ass excel spreadsheets, and you're low-key the reason I even managed to graduate Samwell instead of just living under a table at Founders for the rest of my life. If anyone sees you as anything less than the most incredible human alive, then I feel sorry for them. It's their loss, bro, not yours."

"You really think so, Ransom?" Holster asks.

"I do," Ransom says, tightening his hold on Holster's shoulder. "And I know so many other people that agree with me, including the entire hockey team and at least 90% of the women's volleyball team. You're loved so much more than you realise, bro."

"Thanks, Rans," Holster whispers. "I love you, bro."

"I love you too, Holtz," Ransom whispers back. "You're my best friend. I love you more than anything."

There's a beat of silence where Holster just leans more of his weight on Ransom's shoulder. "Do you think those latkes have gotten cold by now?" Holster asks.

"Probably," says Ransom. "But I can go reheat them, and you get Netflix set up for us to watch while we eat? You can pick whatever you want to watch."

Holster swings his head away from Ransom's shoulder and looks him straight in the eyes. His blue eyes are glinting with mischief and excitement.

"Whatever I want?" Holster asks. "Even 30 Rock?"

Ransom rolls his eyes, but he makes sure that Holster can see the smile on his face. Ransom might hate 30 Rock more than any reasonable person does, but he loves Holster more. "Sure, bro," he says. "If you want."

Holster smiles, and this time Ransom can see all of his beautiful big teeth. "I'll queue up Brooklyn Nine Nine," he says.

Ransom grins as Holster presses a kiss to Ransom's forehead and runs across the room to dig his laptop out of his work bag. Ransom knows that everything's not fixed, that there's still more work to be done to reassure Holster how amazing he is, but Holster's smiling, and that's good enough for now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Plot Twist: the person who made the comment at the Captains' Meet Up DEFINITELY had a crush on Holster (as do I, as do we all)
> 
> Anyway, I talk a lot about how sad it is that Holster/Ransom isn't more popular but I haven't really done much about it until now. So, I'm going to start - I can't get them to third most popular check please ship by myself, but I'm going to do as much as I can.


End file.
